All's Fair
by Chaenee
Summary: AU-In a world of strength and pride, Bulma must find her own way and place in order to survive. But by doing so, will this blue saiyan turn her home planet upside down...and will she tame the wild Prince of all Saiyans in the process. Vegeta/Bulma pairing and mature rating because I don't want to limit my writing.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hey hey, this is my first real attempt at a fan fiction, though I've had ideas floating in my head for years. I love this pairing and this is an AU take that I know has been seen similarly before, but I'm hoping I can throw in a few twists. In the end, as long as it's enjoyable, we're good, right? I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: All credit goes to Akira Toriyama for a great universe, better characters, and wonderful childhood memories!

All's Fair

Chapter 1

Bulma floated above the capital, staring down at the city and the massive fortress at its heart glowing in the early morning light. The sun's of Vegeta-sei were beginning to peek over the horizon, sending an auburn glow on to the walls of the clay colored palace.

_ 'The city has its war paint on,'_ Bulma thought, smirking to herself. A stiff wind pushed away from the city. It rustled her turquoise hair and cooled her sweat soaked clothes and skin. The smells of the city carried up to her and she smiled. It was time to get back to the science wing to prepare for the day but she wanted one more moment to admire her capital and home with the adrenaline of her morning training still pumping through her veins. Another moment, and she sighed.

_ 'Time to go before Father decides to come looking for me.' _Bulma pushed her ki out behind her and flew down to the city, heading directly towards the palace. The Science Wing of the palace wasn't located strictly in the palace, most Saiyans seeing science more as a necessary evil than an asset, however it was on the grounds and was where Bulma's quarters were located at the moment. She made her way there quickly, noting the increased activity in the palace.

_ 'I CANNOT be late again!' _ Bulma picked up speed and made it to her quarters in record time. She immediately stripped and showered the grime and sweat from her earlier workout off, barely registering the cold water. Just as the water was beginning to warm, she stepped out and dressed in her uniform and pulled back her hair into a low ponytail. She was dressed for work in the workshop. The leather jump suit, utility belt, boots and fingerless gloves provided minimal protection, functionality, and ease of movement. It also identified her designation as a Science official. Bulma secured her scouter to her head, curled her tail around her waist and headed down the hall to the workshop.

The halls here had become crowded in the limited time Bulma had needed to get ready. She noted that many of the visiting officials had already begun circulating, trying to get a glimpse of the next Saiyan advancement. Bulma smirked. Since her father, Bardock, had taken over the division, Saiyan technology had gone from purely destructive to highly profitable. While they still pumped out war machines and gadgets to satisfy any Saiyan's lust for battle, Vegeta-sei now played a crucial part in technology trade in the galaxy giving power both technologically, politically, and physically. Needless to say, Bulma was infinitely proud of her father.

_ 'Especially considering the lack of respect he's shown for turning our trade around and providing us with a leg to stand on at negotiation tables,' _Bulma thought bitterly, arriving at her station. Her latest project lay in pieces on her workbench. She cleared the thought from her head, knowing it was an old and unwinnable battle. She had honored her father in the only way she had known how by proudly following in his footsteps and, in fact, she had outpaced him knowledge wise. At 16 years old, Bulma now lead the design team and had a hand in the production of most of the technology passing through the workshop. Bardock still oversaw the shop and dealt with diplomats and directly communicated with the King, but the shop was her responsibility.

Bulma began tinkering at her desk with the ki disrupter she had begun designing, lost in thought and deed, when she felt a presence hovering behind her.

"You know it's not polite to hover," she commented without looking up or halting her work. She heard her father chuckle behind her.

"So, I've been told. Manners were never my strong point," Bardock said in a tone that barely hinted at the humor in his words. Bulma heard it though and smiled at her project.

"Considering that you're the most polite Saiyan ever, that is a frightening prospect." She turned then to look at her father. Bardock stood in the doorway to her workspace, leaning against the frame with his arms folded across his chest. He had never completely adjusted to the life of a Science official and still wore his armor, however, a utility belt had been added to the outfit somewhere in the intervening years. She looked little like him, though her brother, Kakarot, swore she had his eyes, minus the color, and shared his stern look. Kakarot on the other hand, was almost identical in looks to their father, and her other brother, Raditz, shared many of their physical traits as well. Many an insult had been thrown at her about the Saiyan "breeding true" in them. Bulma shook the thought away. She had long ago resigned herself to being different. She looked at her father again. "What's on your mind to darken my door this early in the day, Father?" Bardock stepped into the room.

"There is the Grand Tournament coming up in a few months," he said, in no apparent rush or distress. He picked up a broken scouter and began fiddling with it. Bulma frowned.

"Yes, that's pretty common knowledge. Kakarot and Raditz are both entered. What's your point?" she asked, hands going to her hips. He turned and looked sternly at her.

"Don't sass me, girl. My point is, I know you've been training. I've noticed your hours and your physical improvement. Are you planning on entering?" he asked looking straight into her eyes. Bulma winced. She had hoped to avoid this conversation untill she had already entered and it was too late.

"Yes, I am," she stated simply. Bardock raised an eyebrow, but otherwise his face remained neutral.

"You didn't think to discuss that with me?"

"No. I meet the eligibility requirements for a non-Elite and I want the chance to prove myself in combat." She looked directly back into Bardock's eyes, meeting the challenge. She felt her temper flare. _'I'm not a child anymore! He can't keep me in a gilded cage forever._ The moment lasted for quite a while, neither giving ground. And then, Bardock gave in, looking away with a sigh.

"I'm getting too old for this. You know my reservations about this...but I understand the thirst to be more than what we are," he said, rubbing his eyes with one hand. Bulma noted the shame in his voice and her expression softened.

"Father, you know I have no regrets about my life. I enjoy my work and the time it affords me with you. And I'm good at it for Kami's sake! But I'm tired of hiding behind my work. I'm tired of being looked down on because I can't fight when really, I just don't to avoid the attention." She placed a hand on Bardock shoulder and he regarded her tenderly. Only she was privileged enough to see that face on him; that weakness. He nodded his assent then.

"Alright then, but I want you to train with your brothers and I. You need sparring partners if you are going to prepare for an organized tournament." Bulma stepped back and beamed, nodding her agreement. "And you'll have to relinquish some of your duties here to free up some extra training time. "

As Bardock began discussing training and schedules, Bulma began to think that maybe she might be able to surprise even herself.

-Later that day-

Bulma and Bardock had spent the morning adjusting her schedule and reassigning less valuable assignments to others in the workshop. With most of those details handled, Bulma went in search of her brothers. _'Definitely going to need a sparring partner' _she thought, immediately heading toward Kakarot's barracks room. She knocked on the door with no answer. Peeking in, she noted that he wasn't there before seeking out his familiar energy.

It wasn't something that many Saiyans did routinely, not with the advent of the scouter. It was also something most Saiyans found difficult to do with any not in their inner circle; however, Bulma was pretty adept at finding her brothers and father by their energy signature. It was just something she had lucked upon and found useful when a scouter's precision or accuracy were in doubt. A local search didn't find him so she broadened her reach. _'There!'_ It seemed Kakarot was already in training. His energy was spiking at regular intervals, showing his own manipulation of it. _'Off we go back to the palace then.'_

Bulma entered the palace, careful to ignore the staring. Her coloring had a tendency to attract a lot of attention and there were still plenty of people who had never or rarely seen her thanks to her father's sheltering lifestyle. She quickly headed down into the training yard and felt relief flood her. It was practically empty. _'No more eyes.'_ Her relief quickly dissipated, however, when she noticed who her brother was currently sparring with.

Kakarot and Prince Vegeta were engaged in a knock out, drag out fight. Both men were sweating and bruised, though admittedly Kakarot looked the worse for wear with an obviously broken nose. Nappa, Tora, and Raditz stood on the sidelines observing. Raditz had become an apprentice of sorts to Nappa at the age of 12. Eleven years later, Raditz still looked on the man as a mentor and was often placed on purges and missions with Nappa, per the older Saiyan's request. Tora was an old comrade of Bardocks, from his purge days, and was uncommonly witty for a Saiyan. Bardock complained about him being as chatty as an old woman, but always with a quality to his voice that seemed to indicate that wasn't a true criticism. Bulma also had always thought he was rather cute.

As if on cue, Tora turned to glance in her direction and beamed a toothy, almost feral grin. Tora was tall and traditionally colored, with tan skin and dark hair. His hair he always kept close cropped, a style not adopted by many Saiyans. He learned it long ago from the inhabitants of a planet set for purge. He said their military used the hairstyle and he found it useful in combat with less honorable combatants not afraid of pulling hair for leverage.

"I also think it compliments my rugged good looks," he would always boast. Tora was notoriously vain and in many ways, very different from many of his Saiyan comrades...except when it came to a good fight. The proof of the pudding was in the look Tora was aiming at Bulma with just the excitement of a fight close by. And Bulma had to admit, the energy was absolutely palpable. The two combatants were ravaging their bodies for every last ounce of power trying to find the edge, slowly raising the bar at each new milestone.

This wasn't an uncommon occurrence as fairly early on, Kakarot had been given the privilege of becoming one of Prince Vegeta's sparring partners. His natural aptitude had intrigued the Prince, as Kakarot rarely went for the obvious tactical advantage, and so their arrangement had been in place for as long as Bulma could remember. _'The prince would never admit as much though,'_ Bulma thought with only a slight bit of venom. Prince Vegeta always seemed to be belittling her brother, despite the fact that he was one of a handful of soldier who could even keep up with him at this point, let alone best him. It was rare. The Prince of all Saiyans had only been defeated by three opponents since coming of age. _'And Kakarot was one,'_ Bulma swelled with pride. Just then, Kakarot came flying into the ground with a force that cracked the floor of the training arena. Bulma winced with the impact and walked directly next to Tora. Raditz acknowledged her with a nod.

The Prince landed on the ground directly above Kakarot, who had only been able to lift himself onto one elbow. The Prince smirked.

"You're done, Kakarot. Get yourself together. I expect you in fighting shape tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sire," Kakarot responded quietly, evidence of at least one broken rib in his strained air. The prince backed away and began to gather his things at the edge of the arena when Bulma stepped over to Kakarot's side and kneeled. Out of the heat of battle, he finally noticed the new presence and sneered. _'Right back at you,'_ Bulma thought but quickly stifled the emotion to keep from conveying it on her face. She brought her attention to Kakarot who had smiled lopsidedly at her.

"I think you took quite a beating today, brother," Bulma said softly. Again, he grinned.

"Nothing that a little sleep won't fix, honest Bulma," Kakarot sat up the rest of the way and wiped his face with the back of his palm. He then stood slowly and then faced the Prince, whose back was still turned, and bowed. "It is an honor, as always, Prince Vegeta." The Prince turned, and with no emotion on his face, nodded his dismissal. Nappa, with Raditz in tow, had already begun discussing details of something important with the Prince. Bulma didn't care to try to listen as she joined Kakarot in his slow walk out of the arena. Tora fell into step as well.

"Quite a fight, kid. Not many who can step toe to toe with the Prince and live through it," Tora said jovially. He seemed to still be riding the adrenaline from the fight. Kakarot stretched and winced with a chuckle.

"He goes easy on me, I think. The Prince says he's interested in my...'apparent lack of self preservation and suicidal tactics', whatever that means so I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to completely overpower me." Bulma huffed.

"Could have fooled me," she said indignantly, at which point both men laughed. They continued the light banter until they reached Kakarot's barracks at which point Tora caught Bulma's attention.

"Your father mentioned that you plan to enter the tournament and I thought to offer my services as a sparring partner. I know you plan to ask Kakarot to help but he's often occupied elsewhere as is your brother and father. I on the other hand am on purge hiatus until after the tournament," he said with another toothy grin. Bulma smiled.

"So you're planning on entering?" Tora nodded. "Well, then I accept your offer. I'm grateful that you'd take the time to help me hone my skills." Tora shrugged.

"It's a new challenge," he said simply. He then casually saluted both Bulma and Kakarot and headed off. Kakarot regarded his back then turned to Bulma, seriously.

"Be careful, Bulma," he warned softly. Bulma turned to look at him sharply.

"What are you talking about? You don't think I can handle myself!?" He shook his head softly.

"No, Bulma, I just mean...you're getting older and, you know, men talk...and..," Kakarot stumbled over his words then sighed heavily. "You are beautiful, Bulma."

"You mean for a freak," she said matter-of-factly. He looked at her sternly then, doing a fair impression of their father.

"You are not a freak!" he said as she closed his door. She didn't look at him. Kakarot took a step towards her and placed a hand on her shoulder. The other he used to lift her chin. Her face remained neutral but Kakarot could always see the emotion brewing within her. And he knew this argument well. "You are a Saiyan, born and bred, and better in so many ways. One day, you'll see what father and I see. And when you believe it, so will everyone else." Bulma smiled at her brother then. He was so often goofy and energetic that she could forget how insightful he was. "So," he continued with a smile, "you want to enter the tournament? I can train with you early morning before my sets with the Prince, if you like?"

"Thank you Kakarot! I wanted to test myself against a more skilled opponent and who better than you right?" she asked rhetorically.

"The Prince but that isn't likely or advisable," Kakarot said. Bulma frowned.

"I think I'll just wait for the tournament for that...pleasure." Kakarot laughed.

"I know you aren't fond of his company but really, he isn't so bad as all that. It's pride and bravado...and it's not like he isn't the most powerful Saiyan, excluding the King."

"So you say," Bulma said, brushing off the subject. "He has my loyalty which is all that matters...however, you have my undying love and devotion for this. Can we start tomorrow morning after you rest?" Kakarot nodded and smiled as Bulma beamed at him. They spent the next few hours excitedly discussing training and the tournament until Kakarot's stomach rumbled, interrupting Bulma's thought. "Guess you're hungry huh?"

"Yea, guess I am," Kakarot laughed. "Time for dinner. You want to see if father is hungry?" Bulma nodded and they headed out to the Science wing. Sure enough, Bardock was still there discussing the latest updates with one of the engineers. He dismissed the engineer as Bulma and Kakarot approached, acknowledging them both with a nod.

"What are you both doing here?" he asked, little emotion in his voice, his proud Saiyan mask firmly in place. Bulma sat on the edge of the desk her father was standing in front of and Kakarot stopped at her shoulder, waiting for her to broach the subject of dinner.

"We wanted to know if you had eaten yet? We were on our way to get some food." Bardock thought for a moment before he spoke.

"Let me finish here and I'll join you. We need to discuss training," he said turning away to his papers. After a moment, they headed out to the mess hall. They talked very little on the way, Kakarot and Bulma a step behind Bardock, who greeted familiar faces gruffly as they walked. Once they got their food and sat down, Bardock began talking strategy.

"Alright, you both need to focus on training for a while. No distractions! I know sparring with the Prince takes up most of your time, Kakarot, but you need to put in some personal hours as well to hone your technique. The Prince is, of course, entering and you'll need to pull out something unfamiliar to have even a remote chance of catching him off guard."

"Not likely," Kakarot muttered, between bites, but he nodded in understanding. Bardock then looked at Bulma.

"I know Kakarot has agreed to spar with you in the mornings and I mentioned to Tora you were interested in finding a few sparring partners. He said he'd be interested. Did you see him yet?" Bulma nodded. "Good, Tora is an unconventional fighter...he'll give you experience that even Kakarot cannot give you. And for the rest, you'll come to me." Bardock sat back and began to dig into his food. Bulma smiled excitedly.

"I can't wait to start!" she said, almost bouncing in her seat. They spent the rest of the meal discussing mundane things, which was good, because Bulma could hardly concentrate on anything but the prospect of training tomorrow. Sleep was hard to come by with her excitement but Bulma finally drifted off, thoughts of victory floating through her brain.

Ok so that's the first chapter down. Do let me know what you think, though it's early and I'm starting the action slow. Training starts next chapter and hopefully we'll get a little more V/B action (still working out exact timeline and events). Stay tuned!


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Ok guys, it's been just a little bit but here's chapter 2. I know it's a little lite on BV goodness but I am trying to introduce somethings that I think need set up. Plus you need a vehicle for them to be forced into each other's company. I promise the next chapter (which I am halfway done with already) is gonna give you more good moments. And on with the show! Happy New Year!

All's Fair

Chapter 2

The next morning, before even the moon had set, Bulma was up and getting dressed in her training gear. The black spandex shorts and sports bra were flexible and gave her ease of movement while still keeping her cool and giving little advantage to an opponent. Bulma pulled her long hair into a high ponytail, braiding the end to keep it from getting in the way. 'I'll need to secure it better during the tournament I think.' She grabbed her gear and headed to the practice court where she planned to meet Kakarot.

The grounds were empty, save for the guards on duty. They had to train extra early so as not to interrupt the Prince's training schedule. Bulma entered the practice court and looked around. They were completely empty at this time of night, which she was grateful for. _'Not sure if I'm going to embarrass myself against Kakarot and I would rather do that without an audience.' _She walked into the open space and turned, stretching her back in the process. The practice courts were extremely large, made to accommodate flying maneuvers and ki blasts. The floor and walls were made of a ki dampening metal polymer that her father helped implement to help minimize damage to the surrounding buildings and the open roof allowed for blow back and pressure relief.

After a few stretches, Bulma kicked lithely into the air and levitated a few feet off the ground, absorbing the quiet and the beauty of the galaxy laid out in the night sky before her. A familiar ki at the door alerted her to Kakarot's presence.

"There you are, brother. I thought you might have forgotten me," she said almost gleefully, dropping to the floor as he approached. He shook his head and smiled at her.

"No, I just needed to stretch a bit and think about where to start." Bulma laughed and shrugged.

"Well, I guess the beginning. You know my training hasn't been very structured so I guess I might be missing something important. I just don't want to look like a fool." Kakarot nodded.

"Well, I don't think that is going to happen but sounds like as good a place as any." He walked to the center of the field and looked back at her. "A good starting place is to gauge your abilities which requires a serious sparring match. I just want to make sure you are ready?" Bulma nodded, seriously.

"I want to do this."

"And you know I won't go easy on you or hold back?" Kakarot questioned, raising an eyebrow. Bulma didn't hesitate. She just kept looking at him. Kakarot sighed. "Alright," he said dropping into an attack form. Bulma immediately mirrored him with a defense. Kakarot launched at her quickly, his punches and kicks quick and testing. She mounted a good defense but was finding it difficult to get her footing to launch her own attacks. _'He's so fast! I need to find an opening.'_ Just then she saw a moment, an unguarded side and immediately went for a jab to push Kakarot back. And just as suddenly she felt her wrist lock up, her arm twisted behind her back and Kakarot's arm locked around her neck.

"You can't go for the obvious hit," Kakarot said into her ear, as she struggled to find her break. "They will eat you alive if you take every scrap they give you. I gave you that opening, hoping you'd take the attack I was prepared for. You flash it enough and eventually you catch your prey." Bulma struggled to get her free hand under Kakarot's arm, which was consistently putting pressure on her windpipe. _'I have to get free or I'm out before I even start,' _she thought, grabbing at ideas in her head. Then it happened.

Bulma felt a surge of energy in her body, like a battery charging her whole system. She wrapped her hand around Kakarot's back and fired a controlled ki blast into his back. He hissed and released her in an attempt to put distance between them. Bulma kicked into the air and fired a volley directly at her brother. He deflected most of them, even sending a few back at her, which she dodged. Kakarot was smiling a feral smile when the dust cleared and Bulma snarled in frustration. _'I thought he might at least look a little ruffled.' _Kakarot then kicked into the air and began the assault again. This time Bulma avoided the obvious hit and instead tried bidding her time, but she was starting to get tired. Kakarot seemed to have infinite energy. He had stopped smiling but still seemed so at ease...and it made Bulma mad. She screamed in frustration and countered his attack in a flurry of renewed energy. She pushed back and Kakarot was forced to disengage, if only momentarily.

Kakarot moved back and sent a blast of ki directly at her chest, which she deflected as she advanced. She continued her assault, trying to pin him down as he had her. Bulma launched a swift kick to the side of Kakarot's head, hoping to knock him down into the court. Instead she found herself being launched into ground with all the momentum her kick carried.

"Owww," she moaned. Kakarot was standing over her smiling his bright smile and offering a hand. Bulma glared and he laughed out loud.

"I told you I wouldn't go easy on you. You did well!" Bulma took his hand and got up onto her feet, shaking her limbs as she did so to loosen them after the impact.

"Well, **I** feel like I got tossed around like a rag doll. I have to improve!" Bulma said fiercely. Kakarot placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled.

"You are just unpracticed. You have strong form and really good control. Now you just have to learn what it is to fight with a living fighter and not the imaginary one in your head or the casual sparring partner. When it's for honor and blood, it's different. I think you could feel it even now." Kakarot grinned and Bulma couldn't help smiling, even frustrated as she was. "Ok, now I think something a little less intense. Forms and ki manipulation!" Kakarot said, slipping into an attack form. Bulma groaned.

"But I thought you said I have strong form?"

"But you're ki manipulation is sloppy and that is what is going to give you the advantage over some of your opponents with pure strength on their side. It's easiest to slip them into your practice forms, so here we go!" They spent the next two hours going over her forms and adding the ki exercises that Kakarot taught her to her routine. Just as she was finishing her last form, Kakarot stood and bowed towards the doorway which could mean only one thing. _'Perfect,'_ Bulma thought, going into the bow without looking. A scoffing sound came from inside entrance and in walked Prince Vegeta, dressed for training.

"Kakarot, you better be ready because I am not in the mood for you to be slacking just because you felt the need to coddle the female," the Prince commented, leaning against the wall facing them. Bulma's tail bristled but she remained still and looked at Kakarot instead of the Prince. Kakarot shrugged.

"We were just warming up, Sire. Bulma and I are doing extra preparations for the tournament."

_'Oh, I could kill him for mentioning that to the Prince of all people!'_ Kakarot ignored the subtle glare she sent his way. The Prince frowned.

"Don't bother explaining your asinine behavior to me Kakarot. What you do with your time is of little concern to me as long as it doesn't affect your time here. Now, send the female on her way and get back here!" The Prince had has arms crossed in front of his chest, his posture exuding power and command. He spoke with such arrogance, though, that rather than be impressed by the display, Bulma had a very powerful urge to hit him. _'Remember, he's the Prince. I owe him fealty and respect...regardless of my personal feelings,'_ Bulma thought as she grabbed her bag and turned to Kakarot.

"Dinner?" She asked quietly, not wanting to draw the Prince's attention again. He was currently viciously punching an invisible opponent, apparently in an attempt to warm up. Kakarot smiled softly but it didn't reach his eyes. He had to be stone for now with the Prince so close.

"Sure," he commented, nodding shortly. Bulma turned to leave but caught the Prince staring at her. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as if he was studying her but just as quickly the moment was gone and disdain dripped from his features thick as molasses. She moved quickly to leave before that tickling urge to hit him turned into an impulse she couldn't control.

After arriving at the workshop, Bulma spent the morning working on a few high priority projects but felt unfocused. The adrenaline from her sparring match made it impossible to stay on task and she found herself bouncing from project to project and feeling wholly unproductive.

"Seems you have an itch you can't quite scratch there," Bardock commented from the doorway. Bulma jumped a little at his voice, turning quickly to face him. She hadn't even been aware of him standing there. She took off her work gloves and leaned against the table.

"I'm totally unfocused!" she said, the frustration apparent in her voice. Bardock smiled at her and she glared. "I don't see how that should be funny!" Bardock held his hands up in a mock show of submission.

"Don't unleash that aggression on me just yet. I was coming in to tell you to take yourself out to work off that energy. No point in you being here. You have the plans mapped out and nothing revolutionary in the works," he said, a little teasingly. "You can take some time off and train. They can find you if they need you." Bulma raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Well, you don't think I'm staying here do you?" Bardock asked. "I may not be entering that tournament but I have a vested interest so like it or not we're going to go learn a few things together." Bardock left before Bulma could comment and she smiled to herself.

She put away her instruments and grabbed her training gear, almost sprinting out the door. She met her father at the exit and they began to walk. But instead of taking her to the training yard, where Bardock normally went to pick a fight, Bardock began taking her out of the city altogether.

"Father, where are we going?" she asked curiously.

"You'll see," he called back, the smile back in his voice. A few minutes later, they touched down in a small valley, sheltered from direct view. The area was bare, except for a few sparse shrubs and the red clay of southern Vegeta-sei. Her father turned to her then. "Just a little place away from the city I like to go. Nothing special but it's quiet and away from prying eyes." Bulma smiled.

"Why, father, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were getting soft in your old ag..," but she was cut off, as a small energy blast shot from her father's hand directly at her head. She blocked it easily with a laugh, knowing it was his attempt at being playful.

"Respect your elders, little one," he said roughly. "Now, I know you've seen plenty of tournaments but do you know the rules?" Bulma nodded and Bardock waited, as if wanting her to recite them. She sighed.

"Saiyans of age may enter the tournament to prove their standing and to celebrate the Saiyan empire. Non-Elite warriors must be in good standing with the crown and enter the proving ground prior to the tournament to cement their place. The fights are fought in tiers based on rank and a win is awarded based on 3 factors; pinning your opponent to the ground, incapacitation, or death," she recited as if she'd read the flyers hundreds of times.

"Wrong on that last point," Bardock said shaking his head. "They will place you in tiers based on rank, which ideally would have you fighting with the non-Elite third class soldiers, which wouldn't worry me. You can hold your own easily against that riff raff. We are made of greater stock than our rank would indicate. However, realistically not many of that group will survive the proving grounds which means, those non-Elites that do will be split amongst the tiers remaining. You will be fighting warrior's far above your skill level who have been killing for longer than you have been alive. If you do this, you have to be prepared. Dying is a distinct possibility. The last win awarded by a pinned opponent was so long ago, no one even remembers the fight. Incapacitation is common but death is not unheard of."

Bardock looked straight into her eyes throughout his speech; she could tell he was searching for a sign of weakness, doubt, something he could use to dissuade her. _'I am stone,'_ she thought, trying to let the lingering fear she felt pass through her. She didn't want to die, but the thirst to prove herself was unbearable.

"I am prepared, father. I will train harder than you've ever seen. I have to step up now or I'll never be anything but a freak! I practically hide in the Science wing. I know what they say. I know why you never let me train or try to follow Kakarot and Raditz in becoming Elites. I am a Saiyan and I will prove my worth or die as a Saiyan...fighting." She never looked away and Bardock, to his credit, didn't appear to weaken either. Where he now might have coddled her or eased her fears, he now stood silent, assessing. And then, he smirked.

"You look so much like your mother when you become determined like you are now. She would have beaten me senseless with how I've tried to shelter you. You are of age; you have the right...and I will help you prepare." Bardock turned his back on her for a moment, walking further into the valley. "You know, they always underestimated her as well. She usual taught them better by jamming their words back down their throats." Bardock chuckled at some memory tucked deep away and then turned back to Bulma, his face once again stone. "Alright, it's back to boot camp for you. Basic training and drills will help you think less and respond more in a fight to what's coming next. You have a tendency to over think. You need to let your instincts guide your actions to become better." Bulma nodded and went into and attack form, ready to practice but Bardock shook his head. He sat on the ground, legs bent beneath him, and then pointed to the spot next to him. Bulma frowned but mirrored his actions.

"Alright," Bardock started softly, "to quiet your own mind, is to allow your instincts to dominate. Inside your head, you have the tools you need to win any battle, to overcome any obstacle. Saiyan's have not become what we are merely by being fierce. We are master strategists, we are strong but know the application of strength is a delicate process, and while pride is important, do not let vanity and arrogance allow you to fail. These are things that we will learn." And then he sat back, closed his eyes, and began to breathe evenly in and out.

Bulma mimicked him but soon found her mind wondering. "Father, what am I supposed to be doing?" Bardock opened one eye.

"Straighten your posture, relax your limbs. Strength comes from the core. Focus on your breathing and allow your mind to go and stay quiet. For now, that is all I expect you to do. If you can't master your own thoughts, you can never defeat an opponent in open combat." And with that, he closed his eyes again. Bulma corrected her posture, relaxed and began to breathe again.

After, about an hour of small corrections, Bulma felt like she was more focused but still was unsure about this training. _'I just don't understand...but I trust father.'_ Bardock then got up and had her go through the forms Kakarot had taught her earlier, which Bardock approved of and told her to practice every day for at least an hour. Then, they ran.

"Endurance will save your ass in a fight against an evenly matched or more skilled warrior. You have to wait for them to make the mistake while not giving them one to exploit. Running helps. No ki, just pure and simple running. Push your body to its limit and then push a bit farther." Bardock began and she followed. It seemed like hours they ran and then finally the suns began to set.

"Time to get back," Bardock announced, only slightly winded. Bulma felt entirely inadequate. While she wasn't exhausted, she certainly felt fatigued. And apparently it showed. "You had better toughen up fast because today was basic. Kakarot and I will not be cutting you any slack and you can bet Tora won't hesitate to put you in your place." Bulma straightened at the rebuke.

"I'm fine, father. I know I won't let you down." Bulma said fiercely. He smiled at her for the first time since they had begun training this afternoon.

"I know you will do well. You will surprise even yourself by the end, I think. But you have to be disciplined." Bulma nodded and they took off for the city. Bulma slept soundly that night.

In fact, she slept soundly every night that week, collapsing exhaustedly into bed at the end of each long day. She couldn't train with Kakarot every morning, but they met most days. Bulma started keeping track of the time after that first day so as to hopefully avoid the Prince, which was successful as far as she could tell.

Her father's afternoon training sessions remained the same for now. She still didn't understand it all but it was making her more focused and even in just a few days, her endurance had improved three fold.

"That's what being a Saiyan means," her father said. "Adversity and pain hone us. Push yourself and your body will respond in kind." Bulma kept telling herself this as she trained and used it as a mantra when she wanted to go back to her cushy office. The impulse was blessedly rare as Bulma felt herself craving the training in a way she had never felt before.

In fact, she trained in every spare moment. After about a week of training with her father and Kakarot, she thought to add another level to her regimen and take Tora up on his offer. Like her father, Tora could usually be found scrapping in the training yard by the Elite barracks. Most fighters here were here for a good time and less about structured training which spoke to Tora's personality.

Sure enough, the early evening hours found the training yard full of friendly competition and all out brawls. Most of the fights down here were about pure strength and cunning, with ki blast almost the only form of attack outlawed. Tora said it was a general consensus that ki blast took the fun out of a brawl. Bulma didn't know how true she thought that was, but the Saiyans down here certainly prescribed to the same view.

Many of them had also never seen her. The stares started upon her entrance. Most were quizzical and confused, only rarely had she found hostility and disgust out in the general populace. The presence of aliens on Vegeta-sei made it easier for people to adjust to her coloring and appearance. The training grounds were purely for Saiyans, and many would look at her wondering if she belonged.

Bulma remembered Kakarot's words and walked, her head high looking for Tora in the crowd. For good measure, she loosed her tail and let it sway lazily behind her. It was a bold move in a crowd but would serve to prove her lineage as well.

"You know, you could get yourself in trouble down here, little monkey," Tora said behind her. She turned and smiled at his old pet name for her. His face looked a little black and blue around one eye, but he beamed back at her with boyish exuberance.

"Well, I was looking for you. I was hoping I might be able to take you up on your offer as a sparring partner?" Bulma asked. Tora nodded.

"Aye, let's get out of here and head somewhere a little less rowdy." They pushed their way through the crowd. Tora lead her to some of the old practice grounds. These were just open fields, none of the frills and far enough from the palace to avoid destruction. He turned and gestured to the grounds. "This ok? I'm a little bit more relaxed when it come to training than your father so I hope this is ok."

"Yea, more than ok. I like off the beaten path," Bulma said, beginning to stretch. Tora watched her and she wondered what he was thinking. He smiled when she glanced at him quizically.

"Sorry," he said, "I'm all warmed up but I thought I'd give you the chance before I pounced," he said playfully. Bulma laughed and finished her stretches. Then she dropped into stance and waited for Tora to do the same. Instead he rushed her, sweeping her legs and dumping her on her ass unceremoniously with a thud.

"What the...wait...What was that?!" she stammered. Tora laughed.

"Well, I guess your father didn't prep you for my style, or lack thereof. I'm a bit of a grab bag...that's why I prefer the pit and purges." He offered her a hand up which she took and continued. "You can't read a loose cannon so you never know what's coming next." Bulma nodded.

"That's for sure! I don't even know how to counter that."

"It's not about knowing the exact counter," Tora explained. "It's about feeling the flow of battle, it's about sensing your body and responding to the threat you face. Listening to your instincts and using your opponent's weakness to your advantage. For instance, you are small and relatively weak physically compared to myself which is why I could force you to the ground. But in turn, you should be faster than me and you can use my own strength against me, my momentum." He stepped back. "As an example, I'm going to do that exact thing again and I want you to try to use my strength and size against me. Ready?"

"Ready!" Bulma said, not bothering with a stance and opting to widen her feet to shoulder width, hoping to give herself leverage. Tora smiled and charged. Just as he reached her and began to sweep her legs, Bulma reacted and grabbed his shoulders, using the momentum of his leg sweep to flip him to the side. Tora landed on all fours smiling at her.

"Perfect! Hah, you're gonna' be a natural with some practice!"

"But was I even close to catching you off guard?" Bulma asked.

"Not even close, but you don't know what you can do yet. A few months and you'll be brawling with the best of 'em. Now back to work. We gotta' go over some standard holds and breaks otherwise I'm gonna' choke you out in about a minute." And so proceeded the evening, late into the night. As they parted, Bulma felt like she might have a fighting chance with all the new tools at her disposal.

It was easily close to midnight. Bulma wasn't sure but the moon was high, a beautiful crescent in the sky. And yet she suddenly wasn't sleepy. With all the new things she'd learned, she had a renewed excitement about the tournament and her chances. _'I guess I could practice my forms to try and clear my head.'_ She was close to the palace practice courts which should have been deserted. And yet they weren't.

A Saiyan woman stood in the center of the court performing what looked like some kind of form. _'That's too beautiful to be any fighting form.'_ Bulma thought, watching quietly from the darkened doorway. The woman was dressed simply in dark training clothes. Her face appeared much older than her body moved but that was the way with Saiyans. Most Saiyans, even the elderly, only began to fade physically in the last decade or so of their lives. If they lasted that long. The woman continued her dance as best as Bulma could figure until suddenly her voice rang out into the air.

"It's said to be rude to stare, though among Saiyans is that truly unexpected. At least come into the light so might see my onlooker," the woman beckoned to the doorway where Bulma stood. Bulma stood up straight and blushed with embarrassment at being caught but stepped forward as requested. The woman turned to her, crossing her arms lightly in front of her.

"I apologize for disturbing you," Bulma began but the woman help her hand up to silence her.

"You didn't disturb me. You were watching quietly and I noticed you...there is a difference. At any rate, it doesn't matter." The woman studied Bulma carefully. "My you are an interesting shade for a Saiyan." Bulma blushed slightly and looked down subtly. " Oh no, girl, that will not do. You give away your power by looking away. Hm, but I believe introductions are in order. My name is Deva and I am advisor to the royal family. And you are?"

"My name is Bulma. I'm one of the Chief Scientists here in the palace Science wing."

"Ah, yes, Bardock's girl. I hear you are quite the genius," Deva commented, watching Bulma closely. "What would bring you to this part of the palace this late Bulma, if you don' mind me asking? A boy perhaps?" Bulma blushed furiously and began to stammer.

"What? Oh, no, I was, well, you see, I'm training for the tournament and I'm having trouble sleeping tonight and I thought some practice might tire me out." Bulma looked at Deva then, and found the older woman smiling lightly at her.

"Not to worry, Bulma. I myself am a night owl and prefer to train in privacy. If you like I can share the court with you. If not, I think I can leave you to your training."

"Please don't!" Bulma said quickly. "If I could ask...what was that you were doing?"

"Oh that. Just an exercise called Tai chi, practiced on a little known world I visited once. Did you like it?" Bulma nodded.

"It's beautiful. Is it a fighting style?" Deva nodded.

"It can certainly be used as such. Most practitioners use it for concentration, focus, balance, tone, and meditation. It focuses on meeting the hard with the soft, redirecting it, and remaining unharmed by it." Deva walked back to her position in the court.

"Might I watch you?" Bulma asked quietly.

"If you like, you may join me." She immediately jumped onto the court and began to mimic Deva's movements. "No, not so forceful. The movement should flow, like water. There that's it. And back. Good."

As the moon was setting, Bulma finally made it to bed. A few hours of sleep and it would begin again but today was the first day she felt sure that she could do this.

Ok so thank you to everyone who has commented and visited! I am so grateful. Tried to hit some points that will come up later and what about this Deva chick? :) Definitely a little more to her than you think. Hope you enjoyed and I'll be back with the next installment soon.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Ok guys, holy crap! It's been a little rough in my life but I have been working on the story bit y bit. This section was hard because I'm developing a lot of things and had to rearrange the timeline and tone of a few things a number of times. I'm much further along than this but I had to be sure what I published wouldn't clash with the things I'm still polishing so it took some time. Anyway, there is a little fun B/V interaction. They are certainly off to a rocky and interesting start. At times they almost write themself and other times...it's like pulling teeth lol.

All's Fair

Chapter 3

It had been a little over a month since Bulma had begun her new training regimen and things were going well. She was progressing with her father, she and Tora spent more days sparring as time went on and her nightly visits to Deva were helping to soothe and center her mind. Now if only her practices with Kakarot would get better. It seemed no matter how hard she worked she couldn't get the better of him.

"Hyaahhh!" Bulma yelled, her body crackling with energy as she summoned a ki attack. Her training suit was torn in a few patches and her body sported multiple cuts, scrapes and bruises but she was still standing. Kakarot also looked much worse for wear than the last time they had had a full on sparring match. He also sported some minor injuries, most notably an enormous bruise blooming across his cheek and eye from a well placed knee on Bulma's part earlier in their match. He was advancing on her as she fired a torrent of blue energy from her palms.

Many of them he dodged, some of them he deflected, but the sheer number and power was too much for him to miss them all and it slowed down his progress enough for her to dodge his charge and aim a punch at the back of his head. He turned and blocked while grabbing her wrist and spinning her towards the ground. He followed after her about to drive the point home when she flipped, landed back on her elbows and back and used her legs to high kick Kakarot in the chin, sending him flying back onto the ground.

Bulma stood up, prepared for the next round, but Kakarot just sat back and stared. Bulma straightened up and looked at him confused.

"What? Did I do something wrong?" she asked. Kakarot shook his head, rubbing his jaw lightly.

"No, you actually rang my bell. Hah! That's the first time I've been taken by surprise in a long time by anyone other than the Prince." Kakarot jumped up and moved to her side, examining a rather large burn to her side. "You may want to get that looked at so it heals right." Bulma winced as he touched it.

"Yea, touching it not helping," she commented sourly. "Well, I guess I should leave before the Prince arrives so you have time to prepare."

"Too late on both counts, I'm afraid," came his voice from behind them. Kakarot immediately bowed, but Bulma's bow was much slower and not quite as low as it should have been as her side choose to split open a little at the gesture. "So, the female has claws. Kakarot, go get cleaned up before I lose my patience."

"Yes, Sire. I'll just walk Bulma out on the -"

"Did I say she was dismissed? Get out, Kakarot. Be back in 5 minutes." Kakarot bowed and gave Bulma a sympathetic look as he jogged off. Bulma held herself up as straight as her side would allow and looked on impassively. _'I am stone.'_ Vegeta smirked at her.

"So it seems you have been avoiding me here," he stated smoothly and with no question in his voice. She didn't respond which seemed to visibly irritate the Prince but he continued calmly. "I want to know why?"

"I had no intention of avoiding you, Sire. I merely wished to make sure my brother was available at the appropriate time to spar with you. It was not my intention to impede your training." She remained cool as the Prince looked her over. He eyed her up and down, the smirk changing to something a little more thoughtful as he assessed her wounds. Then to her eyes where she noted curiosity, the same kind of curiosity she saw in her own eyes when she saw something she wanted to understand. Her face must have registered some form of confusion because he brought the walls crashing back down and stood glaring at her as he had before.

"It seems there is a little more to you than meets the eye, woman. Kakarot does not bruise easily but then again, he has weakness I cannot fathom regarding you. Perhaps it is nothing more than that." With that Vegeta began to turn away.

"My name is Bulma," Bulma said quietly but steadily. Vegeta raised an eyebrow as he regarded her again.

"What did you just say to me...woman?" Vegeta said, slowly emphasizing each word, menace dripping from his tone.

"I said, my name is Bulma...Sire," she added much louder than before.

"You should remember your place, woman. And know that challenging me will be the last thing you ever do. Are we clear?" Vegeta said coldly, stepping close enough to her to almost speak into her ear. Bulma stepped back and bowed curtly.

"Yes, Sire," she clipped and then turned and walked out, all the time anticipating the ki blast that would end her life...but that never came.

_'Do I have a death wish?!_ Bulma thought as she made her way to a medical pod. _How did I think he was going to like being corrected? The Prince of all Saiyans can call me whatever he damn well pleases._ But just thinking back to that smirk and the way he ordered Kakarot around like a slave...it made her blood boil even now.

And that look he gave her. She was so puzzled by the Prince. The respect that he could garner from Kakarot and the rest of the men she knew and still be so arrogant and outwardly cruel. It didn't fit with that look of honest curiosity. And the fact that she wasn't being dragged to a med pod or currently incinerated puzzled her as well. Realistically, the Prince would have been justified. Perhaps some loyalty to Kakarot spared her.

As she entered med bay, however, all thought of the Prince got swept away as she climbed into a pod and slept the deep sleep of the medicated.

-Afternoon-

A few hours later, Bulma climbed out of her pod, none the worse for wear and with a feeling of renewed energy. That is until she looked across the room to see Kakarot floating in a pod looking excruciatingly broken.

"What happened?" she asked one of the med aides, who picked up the log for the machine.

"Oh this one? Came in from a match with Prince Vegeta like that. He'll live but he's going to be in there a solid day." The aide walked away, barely registering the pained look on Bulma's face. _'This is my fault.' _

Bulma went to meet Tora in the training grounds as she had the last few weeks every day after lunch. When she arrived he had just won a match and was cleaning himself up.

"Ah, my little one. Here just in time. I was about to...what's wrong?" Tora asked, his voice edged with concern at the look on her face. Bulma looked angry. She looked beyond angry. Her rage and anguish were bubbling over. Anger at the Prince, at her words, and her actions was written all over her face.

"I mouthed off to the Prince and instead of taking it out on me, he appears to have beaten Kakarot into a coma for the next day, give or take." she explained harshly. Tora took an intake of breath.

"Not the best person to offend, Bulma. The Prince is brilliant and a good leader but he isn't known for his patience or forgiveness." Bulma looked at Tora bleakly then. "Ok not the best thing to say on my part, but I know what will help." Tora gestured to a large Saiyan man across the grounds. "You see that guy? Haimon is his name and he's been mouthing off about how skilled he is. Now, it was my intention to challenge him but I think a challenge from you would go a long way to knocking him down a peg...and well, you could use the outlet." Bulma nodded and without hesitation, approached the man.

"You Haimon?" she asked boldly. He nodded.

"What's it to you, freak?" he asked with a laugh. Suddenly, he was doubled over in agony, Bulma's fist buried in his gut. The crowd jumped back reflexively and she heard Tora whoop in encouragement.

"I guess you must feel pretty stupid right now, being beaten by a freak," Bulma said coldly. Haimon glared and lurched up, causing Bulma to jump back. With a roar he charged, but Bulma spun from his grasp, jumped and kicked him squarely in the back of the neck. The brute immediately dropped, blacked out from the impact. Just as he hit, the crowd of onlookers erupted in cheers and jeers and a myriad of noises. Bulma stood calmly in the eye of the storm.

Tora surged forward then, grasping her shoulder and shouting above the din, "That's right! My protégé against all you sorry wastes of space!" He pulled Bulma to the side and she followed without comment. He quickly pulled her down the hall and into one of the old practice courts. Just as they entered he turned and beamed at her.

"That was phenomenal! I mean I knew you would beat him but that had some serious style. They'll be talking about that for years. Oh man, Haimon's face as he dropped. The arrogant bastard had it coming and boy, did you give it to him." Tora had grabbed her shoulders excitedly and by this time she was smiling, his excitement too infection to deny. "Oh, I could kiss you!" he finished with a whoop, at which point Bulma blushed with a laugh.

Tora suddenly seemed to come to his senses and released her, looking rather sheepish. "Well, at that point I think you're father would pound me into the ground." Tora laughed aloud. Bulma smiled at him.

"But that certainly did help. Thank you, Tora." He smiled back at her.

"No problem. Believe me, a good fight solves most of my problems in a given day. As far as your brother goes...he's sparring with one of the most powerful Saiyans in the universe. If he didn't end up in med bay every once in a while, then they aren't working hard enough! But in all seriousness, the Prince is not to be trifled with. I have seen him do things that make me squeamish to talk about and I can handle quite a bit of blood."

"How can you respect him then?" Bulma asked, exasperated.

"Well, Bulma, for me it's simple. He's my Prince and I'm a Saiyan. We're built for war. And you'll never meet a more strategic mind. He is a warrior through and through and makes decisions for the prosperity of his people. Simple as that." Tora winked. "Now, some fighting!" Bulma laughed as he dragged her back into the pit for more challenges.

And she won every single match.

That night she went to share the news with Deva, but of course someone had beat her too it.

"I heard an interesting rumor of a strange blue haired Saiyan making quite a fuss in the pit today. I wonder who they could have meant?" she said cryptically. Bulma smiled.

"I felt like I was unstoppable today! It was like I just needed a push and suddenly, I'm seeing things better, reacting faster. The training is finally paying off." Deva nodded.

"Just remember," she said, "all things require balance. Even we Saiyan are prone to disaster if we allow one side of ourselves to become too dominate." Bulma scoffed.

"I don't think I'm the one who needs that lecture," she said softly but of course Deva heard. She smiled slyly as she began her Tai chi exercises.

"You are certainly not the only one who has or will receive that little bit of wisdom but did you have someone specifically in mind?"

"The look on your face tells me you have some idea," Bulma said, falling into step with Deva, who chuckled quietly.

"The Prince appeared particularly vexed today during council and I understand your brother is recovering from a particularly difficult match with him." Deva glanced at her young companion. "What did you say to your Prince to irritate him so?" Bulma huffed and continued on in silence, noting the smirk on Deva's face throughout the exercise.

_'Why should I be concerned over his irritation? Forgive me for expecting my King to at least be able to remember my name_,Bulma thought as she went through the form. _But Deva is right about one thing. When I felt angry with the Prince and let my pride win, I ended up getting Kakarot in rough shape and I certainly felt...different._ _Maybe I should find the Prince..._

After they finished Bulma sat on the ground, wiping a sheen of sweat from her brow contentedly.

"That always helps to clear my head!" Bulma sighed.

"And what have the cobwebs revealed?" Deva teased. Bulma looked at her.

"I guess I should remember to hold my tongue. Father says it's my only vice. I just can't seem to keep my irritation in check when it comes to him!" Deva smirked.

"My dear, I think it would be wise to discover exactly why the Prince so specifically unnerves you. It could be something in your own self that is truly bothering you, and not his actions or words. By all accounts, you've spent very little time in his presence." Deva bowed her head lightly in parting, and Bulma nodded quickly before leaving. When she turned back, Deva was gone. _'That woman sure knows how to make an exit,'_ Bulma thought as she made her way to her room and then passed out in bed.

The next day, after training with her father in the morning, Bulma made her way to the med bay to greet Kakarot and to apologize for any trouble she had caused. _'I know he won't be mad at me...I just feel so responsible.'_ As she entered, Bulma froze.

There stood the Prince, leaning against Kakarot's pod one arm propped against the glass and his head resting on his arm so that he could freely look into the tank. Currently though, the Prince had his eyes closed, his body almost relaxed, as if contemplating something within his own mind. He was so absorbed elsewhere, that he had yet to register Bulma's presence. _'I could just duck out and hope he doesn't notice.'_ Just then, the Prince stirred.

"I already know you're here, so don't bother trying to cower away," the Prince said, without looking up. He sat up just then and looked directly at her, his eyes smoldering with some emotion she didn't recognize. The moment passed quickly as he regained his usual stern countenance. Bulma bowed then, regaining her senses.

"Sire. How is my brother?" she asked reflexively, standing to look at the Prince. His eyes hardened and he scoffed.

"It appears the clown will awake soon none the worse for wear. I came to check how long I'd be forced to use the stupid Saiba men who are almost worse than useless." Vegeta turned to look back at the tank. "At least Kakarot is an amusing punching bag." Bulma hardened and her tail visibly bristled against her will. The Prince appeared to notice but said nothing and Bulma could not be sure. She merely held her tongue, praying he would move on quickly. "Ah, it seems someone has called you to leash. Good! Know you're place and maybe you'll prove useful."

The Prince sauntered closer to her and Bulma could feel the power radiating from him. He smelled of sweat and spice, a surprisingly pleasant combination. His dark onyx eyes were sparked with triumph, as if he'd won some great victory, and Bulma was immediately taken aback. _'The nerve of this man! For all, he might be a Prince but he is still a man.'_ Bulma held her tongue but she met his gaze, brazenly daring him to continue. The fire in her eyes and posture screamed challenge and confidence. She drew herself up to her full height, only barely shorter than the Prince himself, and stepped forward. The Prince's eyes registered shock for only a moment, and then rage.

"You dare to challenge me, again, woman?!" he fumed, quietly. He quickly advanced on her and the look in his eyes made her retreat, still holding his gaze. He backed her solidly into a wall then and placed both arms on either side of her head. Suddenly, Bulma did not feel brave anymore. The sheer power and menace coming off of the Prince made her weak. She felt her anger fade, though her frustration was still just as intense. _'But I'm not afraid he'll hurt me...' _she thought, surprised at her own daring.

And just as surprising, she felt the Prince's anger begin to ebb though the heat coming from his body was still hitting her in waves. She looked down and saw how close he had stepped, close enough that their feet were practically on top of one another. She met his gaze again and found that same look of concentration and interest..._'but interest in what?'_ she mused, searching his gaze for something.

"You are either extremely stupid or.." the Prince spoke in a harsh whisper, his words trailing off. The Prince dropped his arms then, his eyes going cold and his anger controlled once more. He stepped back and swept out of the room without sparing her another glance. _'What the hell was that!?'_ she thought, the look of shock evident on her face.

Bulma stood against the wall, silently contemplating the encounter for a while, unable to understand exactly what had just occurred. Twice she had all but challenged the Prince of all Saiyans, by accounts the strongest being on the planet, and twice she had escaped death or punishment and was left wondering why?

Suddenly, she was broken out of her own thoughts by the beeping of Kakarot's pod. His eyes fluttered open in the tank and the draining sequence began. As he exited the pod, Bulma was relieved to see him smiling.

"What are you doing here? You should be training!" he exclaimed, slipping into his old armor sitting in the rack next to his pod. Bulma shrugged and smiled at him.

"I though a few moments could be spared for my brother considering he took a beating for my mouth." Kakarot's face darkened as her comment hit home and she bowed quickly to him. "I'm so sorry brother." Kakarot immediately stepped forward and waved off her apology.

"There is nothing to forgive. If it wasn't you, it might have been an out of line dignitary or a battle strategy gone wrong. Who knows what angers the Prince and as his sparring partner, it's my job to provide the best challenge I can for him no matter the circumstance." He smiled quickly and then the moment passed.

"I think the Prince was looking for you," Bulma brought up as they left the Med bay. Kakarot chuckled and nodded.

"The Prince gets antsy sparring with the Saiba men. No real challenge so they don't satisfy any real...itch, I guess is the best word for it." He waved to Bulma then. "Well, better be off. I'm ready to get fighting again." The grin that graced his face was genuinely fierce as he turned and left.

Bulma laughed out loud. _'Saiyans!'_ Bulma made her way down to the labs to do a little work before lunch. They were mostly quiet. Most of the staff was busy preparing for the tournament in one way or another and a lot of the major projects had been shut down. Bulma, however, needed a little time to think and the only place she could really do that, was here.

From a young age, Bardock had kept her close which meant she spent much of her childhood underfoot in the labs. Tinkering had given her something to keep her busy, and her aptitude had proven useful. By the age of ten, she was a permanent fixture in the department. She loved being with her father and she loved the work, but now with training taking a front seat for the first time in her life, she realized it wasn't enough. That thirst to prove herself, which had been satisfied with just being the best in her department, now craved battle. She craved a good fight...that itch that Kakarot referred to. _'And it seems, not just a physical fight.'_

She could feel herself bristle every time she was with the Prince. Just thinking about him made her frown. His arrogance, his pride, and his mannerisms screamed out at her for challenge. Her mind was overridden with thoughts and instincts to shove his words back down his throat almost before she could catch them. Her rational mind knew that to do so was treason, at least in terms of open challenge and she knew she stood no chance. _'And yet...'_ Her thoughts drifted back to his eyes during their brief meetings.

Dark and penetrating, his eyes normally held nothing but distain, contempt or ambivalence when directed at her, if they held any emotion at all. And then suddenly, for the briefest of moments, it was like the veil came back and she glimpsed his mind. Probing curiosity and disbelief hung in his eyes until, just as quickly, it was gone. _'Is it my imagination or some strange fascination to riddle the man out like one of my projects?'_ And she had no idea what any of it meant.

Bulma looked down at her hands, where her current project lay in her hands in much the same condition it had been when she first entered the lab. With a sigh, she dropped it to the counter and realized, even here, her thoughts were distracting her.

"What better time to practice some mindless drills," she muttered to no one in particular. And with that, she headed to the practice courts to do some solo training.

Alright, I hope it wasn't a let down. The story itself is going to jump around to important points. I'm sure you guys don't need a full explanation about how Bulma trained her butt off for a month. It would be boring, pointless, and only serve to aggravate me. So, I promise we won't skip anything meaningful and I'll fill in gaps but I am not going to mindless write down Bulma's breakfast lunch and dinner lol.

Also, for those of you wondering why Bulma seems to be improving fast, keep this in mind. She was raised Saiyan. Even though she was a little sheltered doesn't mean she never trained or sparred or anything like that. This is just the beginning of her intense training, the kind that turned her brothers into fighters. She's embracing a side of herself she has been suppressing and if you know how that feels, the sudden release can be overwhelming powerful.

Thank you to everyone reading and reviewing. I am really grateful for the positive feedback and the questions!


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